


Nose To The Grindstone

by paperclipbitch



Series: femslash100 drabbles [34]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Community: femslash100, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash Drabbletag 6, Mario Kart, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 13:25:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4523739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperclipbitch/pseuds/paperclipbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I demand a do-over,” Darcy says, and throws the controller at the TV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nose To The Grindstone

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **femslash100** 's drabbletag 6 for the prompt: _Mario Kart_. This pairing didn't even occur to me until drabbletag, and now I ship it _so hard_ , omfg.

“I demand a do-over,” Darcy says, and throws the controller at the TV. “How are you this good?”

“Mack and Fitz,” Skye replies, unrepentantly setting up another race anyway. “Once you’ve played against those guys, you can beat pretty much anyone else.”

“I only have Jane to play against,” Darcy says mournfully, crawling across empty Funyuns bags to reclaim her controller. “And sometimes Selvig, but he’s worst. We got snowed into our base this time Jane dragged us all of to the arctic to look at some rainbow sky thing, I don’t even know, and they were both _useless_ at honing my gaming skills.”

Skye hooks the candy necklace she’s been working on between her teeth, and the race starts. They’re both good, yelling at the screen and at each other, but Skye is just slightly better. It’s insanely frustrating.

The phone rings, and Skye hits pause, clears her throat, and answers it. “Hi, Coulson,” she says, shooting Darcy a quick rabbit-in-the-headlights look. Darcy bites down laughter. “Yeah, we’re, uh, still working on it. They’ve got a load of firewalls. I’ll call you when we’ve got stuff.”

She hangs up, and reaches through the junk food debris for another can of Red Bull. “They all think we’re locked in here making out instead of decrypting that harddrive.”

Said harddrive is sat on a table, the screen of the laptop beside it still blinking defiantly. 

“We can do that when we get _home_ ,” Darcy scoffs, leaning into her side. “C’mon, rematch!”


End file.
